


The Wilds

by msbrin



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Lime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-14 20:30:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msbrin/pseuds/msbrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It began with a green dress, a $10 martini and all hell breaking loose...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Phonecall

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Dr G for the invite - delighted to be here! 
> 
> It's a little ficlet that fell into my head. As always thank you for reading, I adore reviews but please be kind - flames are not welcomed.

Logan POV

It began with a green dress, a $10 martini and all hell breaking loose...

So it was Sunday afternoon, an like any Sunday I'd just been hangin' out, workin' out, fuckin' with Scooter an mindin' my own damn business. It was grey and wet - fuckin' February.

Now you can't call me anything but badass, I make sure of that. But here's the thing: I hate bein' wet. I get cold, an it gets right into my bones. Can't warm up after either, not for hours. Have to get right close to the fire with a good shot of whiskey and stay there. People like I'm a lazy SOB but I want to get warm, you know. That don't make me a delicate little flower or nothin' - I just don't like the rain, ok?

So it was pourin' down, an I couldn't cut out of there on my bike without gettin' soaked like a drowned rat. That made me itchy. The feelin' creeps up on ya, the need to move, to change, to get out. But I got a cushy number here, room, board, beer and ass to kick on schedule. Sure it's a savin' the world, good guy gig but ya gotta admit, whose better - brotherhood or X-men? I'm on the right side here, no mistake.

Not wantin' to wreck all that just cos of a bad fuckin' mood I headed for the den for some sports - they make any boring afternoon pass. So hockey and a fresh cigar was the plan.

But there wasn't shit on the TV an I was ponderin' how my Sundays used to go - in some cheap motel, wakin' the woman in my bed up and goin' for round two usually, or round 4, heh. An while I was reflectin', sittin' in one of the leather wing chairs Chuck thought were good den furnishing, that was when it happened.

It didn't seem like nothing at first. Just another 'mansion moment' as I like to call 'em. Ya know, those things that are so Xavier's they just don't happen nowhere else.

The telephone rang in the hall and I heard a clatter of high heels comin' down the main staircase.

I could see her from a mile off, but damn she looked good.

She was wearing some kinda long dress. It swung from her slim shoulders in a shuddering wave down to her ankles. Covered in fuckin' tiny green beads that made it sway and cling to every curve. That dress covered every inch from her shoulder to the tips of her shoes but I ain't never seen something more sinful than the sway of that fabric whispering across her skin. Deep, deep green. The kinda green summer makes you think of - sweet an fresh, an like ya could lick it up. Sweet, fresh and worth more than I make in 6 months - too good for the likes of me. I don't know what ball she's heading to but I know Xavier has plans for his surrogate 'daughter'.

She paused at the foot of the staircase, then swung into motion again - a dash of colour rushed past and then her sweet tones answering the phone. There's hardly a dash of Mississippi in her voice now, she's been at this mansion so long she's picked up the plummy tones of the clique. What do ya expect? She's been here since she was just a teen, hitching in and askin' for a bed, she can't have been 17 years old when she came. Or that's what they've told me.

But I know what I hear, an I hear something deep and wild in that girl's voice. Under the rolling vowels and fancy words there's somethin' else. I'm just not sure if she knows it too.

An while I was thinkin' this I heared an almighty shriek from the hall. And then what sounds suspiciously like the telephone table breaking. Heh, old Xavier won't be happy bout that.

Wonder what's happened to get little Ms Debutante's panties in a twist now?

Rogue's POV up next....


	2. He Looked at Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogue POV

I slammed down the phone, incension fading into doubt. Without the fire of anger holding my up I felt aching, vulnerable, like I could fold onto the floor in a moment. 

Damn it. Why did this have to happen now? And why did the coward call me up 30 minutes before our date to cancel. How dare he? 

I'm trying to rekindle my contempt but the warming indignation has gone cold and grey doubts are creeping in. It's me, it's happening again, it always does. Untouchable, unloveable, broken and boring - the words whisper through my head. Over the years I've lost my boundaries and I can't tell now if these familiar words originate with my mother (and her long ago vitriol), someone I absorbed or myself. 

Looking down I see my gown trailing on the floor as I sink down against the wall, huddling next to the mahogany sideboard. The green of the cloth felt so vibrant before but the beading looks garish now, what was I thinking? Dressing up, flouncing through - I was never that girl, as much as I try to play the part. 

Unbidden, his dismissal plays through my head again…

"I've just heard…so sorry, my dear, but just think what it would look like at the club! You must know it's not done to travel - let alone date - below the Mason Dixon line. You understand, don't you? I know you'll find someone who suits you perfectly…oh, Melanie's arrived. Must dash, ciao."

Melanie Waterstone-Carmichael; that vapid little baby. That vapid, little well-bred, well-read, perfect-in-every-way princess. 

I didn't like him anyway. I didn't. But, Gregory was interested, he looked past the long gloves, apparently mutiny isn't a problem for dating if you've got enough money to move in the right circles. He was young and stupid. But he was fun, he looked at me, and took me dancing. When I felt the warmth of his hand through the silk covering my arms I almost felt normal. 

Goddammit. Angrily brushing tears from my eyes, I slam my hand back in frustration and take out one of the sideboard's legs. Polished wood rocks, buckles and crashes to the marble floor, splinters shattering across the hallway. 

And that was Georgian. Fuck. 

Charles will not be pleased. Not with the broken antique, nor with what that chicken of a man said to me. 

I think of all the 'break-up' cliches - shall I eat lots of ice-cream and watch Sex and The City re-runs all night? 

Like hell, I am 24 years old, I've got a head full of stolen memories and a body built to dance. I'm all dressed up with no place to go, but surely we can rustle up a party. Damn it, I did not pour myself into this dress and put on 3 coats of Dior mascara just to sit around with 'Ben and Jerry' all night. 

But I can't go to any of the places Gregory has taken me, rumours spread faster than butter on a pancake and I can't stand their stares and whispers tonight. Not now. 

It's not like I've got some mental rolodex of hot night spots. Ah, but I spy a man who has…


	3. Sugar and Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking in the truck, observations, realisations and Wolverine turned agony aunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and all the reviews. We get a little more background on Logan/Rogue relationship in this chapter - and then it's back to Rogue POV for some secrets to be told.
> 
> Disclaimer: As always - not mine, don't own them, no profit being made.

Logan POV

When I said all hell breaking loose - I may have been playing it down. 

I dunno what I'm doing here. I'm not babysitter an I certainly ain't a chaperone for innocent young ladies who want a night on the town. No, I damn sure ain't the kinda man you leave a lady alone with. Yet here I am, playing guard dog to Princess here, whose got it in her pretty head to tie one on but good tonight. She's sittin' next to me now, an I can't almost feel her vibratin' with the need to get out there. 

Let's breakdown how this shit happened. I was sitting' mindin' my own damn business in the den. In waltzes Princess and my whole night goes to hell. Now, ya might be thinkin' it ain't such a hardship escorting a beautiful woman out for a drink. I mean, there's alcohol an' she's sure something to look at, 'specially when she skips in fronta me, an that dress shimmies along with her wiggle. She's got a fine ass, an with all those long lines of beads pointing my attention right towards it; well, let's just say hypnotic an' distractin' ain't the words (yeah, right, that's what I'll say when she asks why I can't peel my eyes from her rear)… Uh, where was I? 

K, so liquor plus hot woman equals a good night right? Well wrong son, dead wrong. 

I ain't in a nice dark bar with a bottle of top shelf bourbon by my elbow, knocking it back quietly, watching' her, the sweet delicate curve from her spine up the back of her neck where all her hair's caught up in that band. No, we are in my truck, and I'm given' her fuckin' relationship advice about these preppy assholes she keeps hangin' round with. It's Dear Wolverine and dear God I wanna get outta here. 

Sheer hell.

"But Logan, Ah just don't see why? Ah was good enough for him before… damn yankee, Ah have more lineage than he'll ever have"

Her Mississippi comes out a little stronger when she's angry or upset. Usually it's WASPy tones all the way, most can't her the honey in her voice like I can. But it's strong now, sounds good on her. 

'Darlin', you don't sound sad, you sound mad. So it's just your pride hurt and not your heart" 

I can't take it anymore, we've been havin' this conversation for the past 20 minutes. I hadta lay it out for her.

"Ah, Ah didn't ask you Logan, Ah can handle this myself!" 

Huh, well I know for a fact those babies can't handle her anyway, she scares the lot of them - and it's there loss. Not her skin, they ain't worrying about that (and what does that say about their plans for her - these idiots are lookin' to make a money match, not a love marriage. An this girl needs love - I'm just sayin'). No, they can't handle her because she has a little wild inside. 

Some dickhead with no courage and even less sense stood her up. An' he basically said she ain't good enough for him. He's *dead* wrong about that, an' we'll see how close to dead he comes pretty soon. I'm gonna tell him how it is - once he's gone out with her, he dates no one but her until she kicks his ass to the curb, now how come he don't know that? 

Normally I don't hang out much with the kids at the mansion, an certainly not with Princess, but seein' her come in, right on the edge - it shook me a little. Sparks flying off her from passion, pain, defiance - she was walking a fine line in high heels, and goddamit I didn't wanna see her fall. 

I always think of her as a spoilt little rich girl with some secrets - because she's trying to push down the fight inside her, but I can find it in her scent - there's the smell of the woods there, the dust that rises from a road under the hot noon sun, and something richer and darker too. I haven't quite figured that one out yet. 

There's something about that untamed streak with her wide-eyed innocence that makes me wanna catch her. She's beautiful, unbroken an I don't wanna see life break her and there's no way as long as I'm around that I'll let some dickhead boy break her spirit. An it looks like I'll be round for a good long while - being pretty much indefuckinstructable heh. 

"Humh, fine with me darlin'. I ain't the one dressing up fancy an' expectin' them to let me play in their sandbox"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't get all high and mighty with me kid. What's so bad with bein' from Dixie anyway?"

"I'm not from the South, Ah - uh Ah mean I, I was just born there that's all"

And raised there, an had your first swim, first dance, first kiss there.

Pullin' the truck up to the front entrance. 

"It don't matter - we're here now" 

Lookin up, it's a big fuckin' skyscraper but there's a good bar on the roof - isa hotel, I stay here on occasion. The staff are discrete; they got good steak, old whiskey an I can drink an see the stars. Course, she'll like the infinity pool, and the $10 martini's, but what do I care? She wanted to come out so we're here. 

Watchin' her slide out of the truck, toss her head an' glance back at me, all dark eyes and anger. 

"Let's go sugar".

That gets me, that right there, goddammit Princess - it's a helluva night and if she has her sweet way it's only just begun.


	4. Champagne and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A roof-top bar, nearly-dancing and some martini-infused conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story is still here! Apologies for the crazy delay in updates. A file malfunction lost all I'd written but we are back on track and heading towards the finish line here. Thank you so much for reading, for reviewing and enjoy!

Marie POV

I would never have seen him here, if I'd pictured it. But the moment he stepped in the door he shifted, adapting to the environment. His stride became smoother his shoulders relaxed back and I swear I saw radars light up all over the place. Or maybe that was just the excited faces of the beautiful people hanging out here tonight. 

It's a fast set, and a bored one. When you have that much money, perhaps all the pleasures it can buy just become 'same old, same old'. But they sure looked excited when Logan strode in, like some danger with their drinking huh? 

They weren't the only ones with a gasp on their lips though. When we pulled up out front I thought Logan had just lost his mind. This was not the kinda place I'd had in mind when I asked the wolverine to take me out. I thought he was playing with me (and not in a good way), just teasing the sheltered society girl that's all he sees of me. 

He stopped the truck outside a huge skyscraper hotel, not one I've been to before. A little too yuppy for the kind of old money places Charles usually takes me. This had miles of polished glass, bankers and brokers whizzing up in their bonus cars and Logan hopped out, cool as you please and threw the keys to the valet like they knew him here. 

When the elevator stopped at the rooftop I could see why he'd come here, and it became clear that he does come here all the time. The floor is slick black marble, reflecting the jewels of the women and the stars above. We felt as high as the sky itself, inky black above us. To our right an infinity pool hung out over the city lights and I bet that pool's never had a toe set in it with this crowd. The bar was to the left, champagne flowing, bartenders swinging up and down it like its Christmas time.

So we came in and he hung back, watching me take it all in. But not too far back if you get my meaning, he still had a hand on my arm - oh look, now moving to my waist. This man takes 'protective instinct' to a new level. But it's good to be out, better than at home. And with the weight of his hand through the fabric, the shivery tingle of slick beads rolling under his fingers along my skin, with his presence next to me, his scent and his height, I almost feel desired, like I'm beautiful and not broken, like I belong. 

He leads me to the bar, and leaning over, orders a martini for me and a whiskey for him, straight up. We take a table on the edge of the world it seems, by the infinity pool, where the lights of the city and the stars in the sky fade into one another across the distance. 

I sip my martini, the silence beginning to press on me. 

He's watching the process of the glass from the table to my lips and back again, the twirl of the olive. His gaze mesmerises me. To be the focus of that much attention is intoxicating. Usually my date is always chattering, trying to impress, looking about to see who is who and who is where. Jumping up to 'just pay my respects of Jameson' and 'oh do you see Emerald over there, Emerald, Chelsea, hello..'. Logan is here with me, and that enough for him. Strangely, considering this began as a defiant ice-cream avoidance exercise, it's enough for me too. 

"Wanna dance princess?"

The words shock me out of my reverie. I look around to where he's indicating, and there are couples dancing over the far side of the rooftop, something low and jazzy. I'd love to dance but...

"Well, you wanna?"

"Yes, I do, I... uh, not now, that's all"

"What's wrong? You feelin' bad still, 'bout what that little dickhead said to ya?"

"No, it's...."

"Or ya don't wanna dance with me?"

He's getting huffy now and scootching closer. I know he wants an answer, this is all going wrong!

"Hey, ya smell funny. Like hurting. What's wrong? What's happening?"

Looking around, casing the joint, moving right next to me. Taking my hand. I have to tell him. Damn, damn, I hate this part. The looks, the 'sympathy', the judgement, the drawing back. 

"Look, it's nothing. It's just I get pain sometimes, issues from my mutation and the Cure that didn't work. It's mostly nerve pain; stinging itching, twitching, weakness in my legs, my left side. I have to live with it. I don't like to talk about it".

His face opened up at that, so funny, most people close off.

"Ok, darlin'. You hurtin' now?"

Nodding. 

"Come on, let's get you outta here."


	5. Sirens and Deep Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts with a dive bar but ends somewhere else. Truths shared in between, over low lights and beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last but one chapter. Logan POV. Thanks for hanging in with this story.

Logan POV

Fuck it, princess. Why do you play this game, huh? Hanging out with those assholes. Actin' the privileged little girl without a care in the world? Why do ya do it when you' ve got pain, an truth, an fire, an more than a little wild inside?

It all makes sense now, she ain't so perfect after all but shes still defiant. There's innocence there but it's drawn and jaded by things she shouldn't have had to experience. She said it was pain, Told me in the truck that Xaviers taken her to all the doctors an shit. Flown her to Geneva, travelled all around Euroe an south America even lookin fir answers. They all say just the same, ain't nothing they can do. 

I've wondered before what keeps her up at night, what makes her turn up at breakfast in dark glasses and shaky legs, why she skips gym. I always thought it was a hangover, and that it was her little boyfriends drawing out those sounds from her at 3am. Pain and pleasure - its a moan and a keening whine, but it all sounds alike in the dark. I've wondered but now I think I've got a good idea. 

I swept her outta there like she was the princess I've been callin' her, she let herself lean on my arm. 

That place was all wrong, I see it now. She ain't a little girl playing at grown up life, she knows pain, she's got a history she don't share and a wild mustang spirit she ain't begun to get close to yet.

I took her to a real bar. Bit of a dive but its got dim lights and good liquor. Wrapped her up in my coat and just tucked her under my arm on the way in so that dress of hers don't draw too many stares. What am I saying though? She's drawn the eyes of everyone in the place just by comin through the door. 

I know what they are thinking, that princess is slumming with me. Well she's more than that so fuck 'em. Can see why though, look at her. 

"Look Marie, I'm sorry I took ya to that place. I see it's not you now"

"It's ok Logan, I know how people see me. I want them to see me that way, at least I did. But I'm not stupid I know the part I play"

"Then why just playing, darlin'?"

"I simply don't know. They see through me, that guy tonight, he took out someone with more pedigree. But Charles has done so much for me...and Logan, try to understand, there's so much distraction to that life, you know?"

Oh I know alright, I know about pushing the pain away with whatever works and if that's worked for her then I get it. There's been so much more to her than meets the eye all along, and she's kept it that way. 

"I know but darlin', can't you see what that life is doing to ya? You fold smaller and smaller trying harder to fit their narrow rules. And let me ask you honey - don't you feel it crushing the wild inside?"

She's sitting up now, eyes bright. 

"You can't deny it baby I can smell it, hear it, feel it in you even. And I know all about the wilds that live inside us. The more you push them down the more they roar. It's a dangerous game you're playin."

"You don't know a damn thing!"

"Oh yeah? I don't know then, about being broken, being a freak. Being different and no more than an animal. Dragged up fuck knows where, don't even know my own fucking age or name? And you're telling me I don't know about being shunned, or craving legitimacy? Fuck you."

"Logan"

Reaching for my hand, her eyes look soft now, quizzical, no puzzled and sad.

"Who does this Logan? Who would ever shun you?"

Shit, shit that makes me feel. Shit. It's like she's seen all the soft parts, the wounded parts inside me and she accepts them. She ain't repulsed. That's something deep right there. I think there could be something here for us. I feel it. But not when she's crushing her wild. It's so close and I need this, I've been so damn lonely for so fucking long. But I need someone who knows their power. The Wolverine won't take a mate who hides from her own nature. Dammit darlin' stay with me here. 

"Marie, I....Why are you like this? What do you dream of?"

"I want to be free"

"Then why the gowns and the fuckin heels and the voice? Are you afraid of your roots?"

Fuck me, that's when I heard the sirens. Police raid and what timing. Now I coulda hustled her outta there no problem. But she was mad as a wet cat and she was wantin' to run.

And she did, slipped from the bar and kept running. I ran after hr because after tonight I know for damn sure that I'm the only person who knows where to look.


	6. My Favourite Place to Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading to the end! 
> 
> N.B: Last line borrowed from an instagram image, it was this line that started the whole story.

Took me two weeks of drivin', searchin', bribin' but I found her in the end. She ran down south an holed up in a honky tonk at the end of a dirt road that went from nowhere to nowhere. 

She was behind the bar when I walked in. Not that I recognised her. I found out later that she was working in a stables in the day and tending bar at night. It turned out those fancy riding lessons Charles paid for had a use after all, for all her dressage skills she still knew how to groom, and turn out horses. And she told me later riding meant that she could still get around if her leg was shaky. 

But right then when I walked into that dusty place all I wanted was a cool drink and to find her. I looked around and princess was not in sight, not huddled on a bar stool with polished boots and a sulking smile, or bending the ear of the bar tender asking for mixed drinks and a cab home. But there was a party going down and the bar tender was a young girl herself, slinging drinks and singing with the patrons in a down-home voice that was sweet and low, smokey and homesick all at once. 

She had dark hair pulled back in a pony tail that danced as she flew about behind the bar. A grey vest, checked shirt over it, far too big, the cuffs falling over her knuckles and the tails knotted up under her ribs. Have to or she'd be wearing it as a dress I guess. Soft worn jeans and brown cowboy boots completed her, and I know I'm not meant to be looking but something pulls me to her. I walked over and she looked up at me, half laughing at some ole boys joke and I caught her scent and her eyes at the same moment. 

Dammit, you've been holding out on me darlin'. This place has been drawing out the wild in her and that suits her and me. 

So I went up to the bar, cool as you please and ordered a beer. She brought it to me with a strong look.

"I ain't goin' home Logan"

"I ain't trying to make you, darlin'"

"What you here for then? Reporting back to Charles? I told him I was fine,  
I just don't want to see anyone right now."

"I was looking for you. Not for him, for me."

She looks embarrassed now, and kinda shaken, like this talk hasn't gone at all the way she'd planned. 

"Why would you do something like that, huh?"

Oh darlin' that drawl in your voice, I could listen to that honey all night and every night, I swear. 

"Maybe I ain't here to help you, maybe I need you. You thought of that, Miss Sass?"

Looking away now, fiddling with the cuffs on her shirt. 

"I'm not trying to take you back Marie, so get that thought outta your head right now. I thought I could join you here, find some space to settle into each other and find out what we could be."

She's lookin, I don't know what she's lookin now, it's good though, it's an open look, I think, I think it's hope. 

"I could do that sugar."

Oh darlin', what the fuck are you trying to do to me here, huh? I said space to explore not invitations to kiss you into next week. 

"I've got a place I'm living, it's just a cabin on a ranch nearby. I thought about what you said in the bar, Logan. I needed space to explore the potential away from expectations."

Glancing at the clock, looking round.

"My shifts almost over, look, finish your beer and we'll get out of here and talk ok?"

******

She said it's just a cabin, but it fits us perfect. Her and me and the future so wide in front of us. I've gotta hold her in my arms just a minute, careful of her left side I pull her into me, tucking her head against my chest and her head under my chin. Her hair is so soft, and she smells of magnolia and sunshine. 

"I'm glad you came Logan. I know it's not what you are used to, and I know I'm not, now. But do you think you can be happy here with me sugar?"

"Bliss on a dead end road in the middle of nowhere, darlin'. It's my favourite place to be."*


End file.
